Chapter 18: High-rank spell
Koril's office was bare and empty. A high, massive glass window was perched behind him. His office wasn't as stacked with papers or as busy as Duran's; it was like a personal meditation room.
Lucen stood as Koril dragged some chairs from the walls to the middle of the room, their harsh scraping sounds filling the room.
He glanced at the beautiful, carefully crafted wood desk that had been discarded at the edge of the room.
Koril dropped the chairs and a simple stool. "Sit," he said as he dropped some scrolls on the table.
Lucen took his seat, eyeing the brown scrolls carefully.
"Thank you for your generosity."
"Well, we wouldn't be here if I did what I was supposed to," said Koril. "I've spoken with Chester and Duran. I will unseal the memories of a High-level elemental channelling technique. But I will also personally give you one magic art."
Lucen bowed deeply before saluting, but a bitter taste filled his mouth.
"What did you mean? ... about what you're supposed to do."
Koril met his eyes easily; his gaze was tired and distant. Lucen, feeling awkward, began to study his wild black hair and beard and the scars on his neck.
"When I brought you here, I expected Heimar to take responsibility for you," Koril explained. "I did not believe his opinion of me was so poor as to just ignore you. When it came time to decide your channelling technique, I also did not say anything."
"Why?" asked Lucen hesitantly.
"I didn't care. I have been very… unwilling to engage in any of my duties as of late."
Lucen had a feeling that meant the entire culture and life in the Grey Keep. Koril always seemed stony and uncaring. He had thought that was just how he had always been.
"None of that matters now," Koril sighed. "I will do my best, but as a Halfblood, you are essentially an abandoned son—lucky to be called a son. So they are very unwilling to invest in your talents, especially if you hold any grudges."
"I have no complaints about my treatment," Lucen confirmed. "I could have grown up in my mother's village and never known of magic or Knights."
"No plant will grow if it's not watered," said Koril. "Hatred doesn't just appear, it grows deep in the shadows of our hearts."
Koril's eyes sent a shiver down his spine for a second. He looked down at the scroll and asked. "So what you're doing now is stopping them from watering the plant?"
"Mostly," Koril said and raised the first scroll. "This is [Water Shield], not too powerful, but very mana efficient. This is [Firestarter]; the enhancement it provides is weak, but the strength grows the harder you move. And finally, we have [Windblade]; it's as its name says, but it requires some finesse. They are all Minor-rank spells."
The three scrolls torment Lucen; [Watershield] and [Windblade] would fix his deficiencies in defence and range, but [Firestarter] would allow him to use [Breath of Rage] publicly, and their combination could yield a High-rank spell.
Koril, seeing Lucen's internal conflict, said, "I would suggest taking [Firestarter], your skills with controlling and sensing magic are extraordinary, but the best Knights can keep up with their opponents—you won't get many one-on-one fights in the outside world."
Lucen nodded and took the scroll.
Koril tapped his forehead briefly, and the memory of the High-rank channelling technique was opened to him.
Koril read Lucen's poorly hidden look.
"You do not approve of our methods of keeping information safe?"
Lucen said nothing, looking up into his eyes.
"You'll learn soon, boy," sighed Koril. "Not all knowledge is a blessing."
■——■
He slunk off to his room for the rest of the day. If Warren needed him, he would call. First, he wanted to take stock of everything he'd gained.
Name: Lucen Lightcloak.
Rank: Apprentice
Vitality: Minor
Will: High
Might: Minor
Insight: High
Dominance: Minor
Discovery: 14%
Status Effects: Relaxed
Equipment: Barth's treasured spear, magic scrolls
[Skills]
Night vision(Low)
Wall climbing(Low)
Comprehension (Minor)
Targeting (Minor)
Reading (Minor)
Song of Light (Heroic)—Breath (Minor) + Wind Caller (Low) + Flame Eater (Low) + Earth Shrine (Minor) + Light Basket (Low)
Breath of Rage (Minor), Breath of Mending (Low), Breath of Veil (Low)
Nature Song (High)
Firestarter (Minor)
"Who is Barth?" murmured Lucen, "and why does my discovery refuse to grow?"
It had been ten percent for the last seven years. He wanted to gain more skills from killing enemies and especially wanted Spirit Lights, which allowed you to summon spectral allies from your slain enemies.
He had learnt that with enough understanding of magic and willpower, one could project his spirit out of his body like Alger while still alive. But it was also possible to get Spirit lights with the dead bodies of your enemies.
The possibility disgusted him, but it came with a lot of advantages in battle. Getting Spirit lights was very difficult, though, but if the Devourer system could make them, he would be ecstatic.
"Okay, let's fuse the abilities."
[It is an enhancement spell that grows stronger the harder you fight. The excess energy reached at your body's limit will be stored and can be used in fast bursts.]
"Good job," said Lucen absentmindedly, considering now how to go about channelling mana. It had already been difficult before, but now the tune he had to hum became more complex.
Using [Comprehension] and [Reading], he could trace the movement of the elemental types and hum to their movement.
At the same time, he was controlling his Life mana, which had been growing increasingly brighter and more complex since he started using [Song of Light].
He silently counted himself lucky that he didn't have to pray to channel Divine mana like the usual techniques.
The hum swam through the air, attracting Elemental, Divine and Life mana into his soul. After one hour, he was at full capacity, his soul pushed against his skin like an internal fire, and his senses were sharp and taut.
Heroic rank channelling techniques strengthen your body, mind, and soul. He had only been practicing [Song of Light] for a few days, but he could feel the differences.
Next on his agenda was magic arts, he made the three scrolls in his possession appear in front of him and smirked.
Only soul-bound items could usually be stored like this, but Lucen could even store food and bring it out warm.
His storage space increased when he advanced to Apprentice, which was when he learnt [Breath of Rage], and now he could store twenty items.
The scrolls were painful to read and faded from his mind once he looked away. They were elusive, and forcing them to stay in his mind was a function of Dominance.
Learning [Breath of Rage] had been a long and gruelling process of failure and near-death experiences. But memorising the [Sinking sand], [Traveller's aid], and [Surging flames] would not only be painful but also irritating.
They were on his list of skills last night… Now they were not. At least he didn't try using it during the duel—that would have been embarrassing.
He lost memory of the spell's shape and now had to spend the next three hours studying them again.
He opened the first scroll and felt his eyeballs begin to heat up. His fingers spasmed occasionally, and sweat began to form on his brow after ten minutes.
The comfortable chill of the room retreated as the red, glowing symbols on the brown scroll were revealed.
The shape of the spell was an abomination, a perversion of the natural runes that he once studied in the golden cage as a child. Their shapes were incomprehensible and nightmarish; they strained against the confines of his mind and memory.
And it hurt like hell.
Before long, he was red-faced, veins throbbing between his arms and head. His hot blood pumped loudly in his ears, and his mouth began to taste like blood.
He set the scroll down and checked the clock, eyes blurry with tears.
Thirty minutes had passed.
He sighed and got back to work, silently wishing he had this much dedication in his past life.